Thoughts...exploding in my head

Four walls surround
Where nothing hangs but stains
From fists punching and pounding
The blood that dripped, left to dry
Like tears on cheeks from everyday living

No one cares but for their own affairs
While a single bullet sleeps in a cleaned out chamber
Held in hand, a gun
That mother carried if father got out of line
Too afraid to fire, the only virgin in this house, is a pistol

The mind rotates around, thinking
To take life and face the music
Everyone will call it suicide
Was he depressed?
Tired of waiting for someone else to win his fight

Inside and out
Living in self misery
Low self esteem,
He stares
At the ground, more than the sky

You’ve sent us angels with spears and swords
You’ve had prophets use language to inspire
You’ve sent us, terror from heaven
You’ve lost many battles
to the fucking devil

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